<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471</id><updated>2011-08-01T19:42:53.424+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Waterloo</title><subtitle type='html'>idei reciclabile</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6628931766572945619</id><published>2011-06-22T16:08:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T16:30:41.538+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Leul in halat alb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_YH32iReCl0/TgHuQ7nTP1I/AAAAAAAAAac/jYHueKfdxSQ/s1600/leu-alb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_YH32iReCl0/TgHuQ7nTP1I/AAAAAAAAAac/jYHueKfdxSQ/s400/leu-alb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621035784582938450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ce spun visele despre oameni? Ce putem afla din vise? Multi se grabesc sa interpreteze visele si sa prezica viitorul. Avand un vis destul de ciudat m-am gasit si eu in ipostaza asta. Doar ca eram un caz unicat.&lt;br /&gt; Totul a inceput dupa un examen cand (ca de obicei) am dormit prea mult; in trei  reprize cate doua ore. Imi simteam deja capul greu (vreo 10 kg de somn)... Era frig. Eram un leu, cu coama alba si ma miscam agale printre gheturi. Si mi-era frig. Era pustiu si era trist(a). Si m-am intalnit cu oameni. Eram gen Gulliver in tara piticilor, doar ca era leu. In fine... Deci ceva gen Fram (ursul) leul polar, Gulliver in tara piticilor si accente emo :))&lt;br /&gt; M-am trezit si chiar mi-am adus aminte visul, nu cum se intampla de obicei. Cateva zile mai tarziu m-am gandit sa consult enciclopedia universala, aka Google. Iata ce am gasit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span class="talmacire"&gt;leu:&lt;/span&gt; succese si onoruri, dar nu neaparat  un castig de bani; daca auzi un leu ragaind manios inseamna ca cineva  din apropierea ta va fi gelos; un pui de leu in vis e semn de prietenie  trainica; daca te lupti cu un leu inseamna certuri; leopard - drum cu pericole;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Eu sigur nu am visat un leu ragaind :))&lt;br /&gt; In cele mai multe vise, oamenii sunt oameni! Eu de ce m-am metamorfozat? Si era inainte sa ma uit la Game of Thrones episodul 10 :)).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6628931766572945619?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6628931766572945619/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2011/06/ce-spun-visele-despre-oameni-ce-putem.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6628931766572945619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6628931766572945619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2011/06/ce-spun-visele-despre-oameni-ce-putem.html' title='Leul in halat alb'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_YH32iReCl0/TgHuQ7nTP1I/AAAAAAAAAac/jYHueKfdxSQ/s72-c/leu-alb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8402775352261709740</id><published>2011-04-12T21:55:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T21:59:51.058+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Poti.</title><content type='html'>Sa o iei de la capat in fiecare zi?&lt;br /&gt;Sa iti propui in fiecare zi acelasi lucru?&lt;br /&gt;Sa nu reusesti ceea ce ti-ai propus?&lt;br /&gt;Sa iti doresti sa nu fi facut asta?&lt;br /&gt;Sa renunti?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8402775352261709740?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8402775352261709740/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2011/04/poti.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8402775352261709740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8402775352261709740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2011/04/poti.html' title='Poti.'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6958109511184049718</id><published>2010-11-02T17:55:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T17:58:19.067+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ce imi inveseleste ziua</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TNA0sfP2opI/AAAAAAAAAaE/LYsez-glB60/s1600/unlimited+food.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TNA0sfP2opI/AAAAAAAAAaE/LYsez-glB60/s400/unlimited+food.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534981880945222290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca scarbos, idiot... ca face parte din prostia crancena, dar ma face sa rad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6958109511184049718?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6958109511184049718/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/11/ce-imi-inveseleste-ziua.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6958109511184049718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6958109511184049718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/11/ce-imi-inveseleste-ziua.html' title='Ce imi inveseleste ziua'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TNA0sfP2opI/AAAAAAAAAaE/LYsez-glB60/s72-c/unlimited+food.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-2394883732571560663</id><published>2010-10-05T17:52:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-10-05T18:21:34.272+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Winning a Battle,Losing the War</title><content type='html'>A fost printre dorintele mele. Sa intru la facultate si va fi bine, poate si mai bine. M-am bucurat cand am reusit...&lt;br /&gt;Nu-mi plac schimbarile. Deloc. Si le evit cat pot eu de mult. Dar p-asta nu aveam cum sa o evit. Poate daca ramaneam repetenta. Punct si de la capat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se numeste facultate si e locul in care te simti singur pe lume :)). Atat de multa lume, atat de multe fete necunoscute,atat de putine lucruri in comun, atat de multe nume si nicio harta sa te orientezi!&lt;br /&gt;Banc&lt;br /&gt;La 1 octombrie, afis la farmacie: "Bine ati venit!"&lt;br /&gt;Pe spatele afisului: "Dracu' v-a gasit!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apoi urmeaza mustrarile de constiinta. Daca ma duceam la Poli era mai bine. Sau la Medicina?!&lt;br /&gt;Si mi-e dor de colegii mei... cei adevarati. De un basket in curtea scolii pe geru' asta cumplit, de un covrig cu mac si sare sub umbrela, de crizele de ras, de o partida de trombon, de glumele tampite si limbajul nostru ilogic...&lt;br /&gt;Dar dati-mi viata-napoi!&lt;br /&gt;Si nu-ti ramane decat sa speri ca ai facut ce trebuia si  va fi din ce in ce mai bine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-2394883732571560663?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/2394883732571560663/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/10/winning-battlelosing-war.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2394883732571560663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2394883732571560663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/10/winning-battlelosing-war.html' title='Winning a Battle,Losing the War'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8608625701431493529</id><published>2010-09-01T18:22:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T18:37:34.479+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cand visele devin realitate</title><content type='html'>Dragi copii ce o sa dati bac, admitere, in general, cei care o sa fiti a-12a. Va recomand:&lt;br /&gt;-10 ore de somn pe zi&lt;br /&gt;-distractie cat cuprinde&lt;br /&gt;-nesimtire la discretie&lt;br /&gt;Deci nu o sa fie nicidecum asa cum va imaginati...&lt;br /&gt;Si intrebarea din final va fi in 99,99% din cazuri:&lt;br /&gt;GATA?!? ASTA A FOST TOT?!&lt;br /&gt;da... a, si niste reziduuri de dezamagire plus alte noi planuri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi-am implinit toate dorintele, dar parca voiam altceva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si acum incep scolile si ma simt exact ca un copil repetent. Schimb toti colegii, profesorii. Si la capitolul studii va fi exact ca in clasa I. Alte liniute, alte cerinte, alte restante...&lt;br /&gt;Paradoxal e ca 13 septembrie ma va gasi din nou in curtea liceului, dar nu o sa mai am loc rezervat in nicio sala de clasa. O sa stam pe bancile alea din curtea scolii ca niste copii care vin la toneta de inghetata si dupa ce s-a terminat inghetata...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8608625701431493529?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8608625701431493529/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/09/cand-visele-devin-realitate.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8608625701431493529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8608625701431493529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/09/cand-visele-devin-realitate.html' title='Cand visele devin realitate'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-2903858368041141765</id><published>2010-07-01T10:36:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T10:42:35.437+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Cum se cheama ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TCxGFylygrI/AAAAAAAAAZU/nYxmaVp7D-g/s1600/Imag006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TCxGFylygrI/AAAAAAAAAZU/nYxmaVp7D-g/s400/Imag006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488839111151354546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un pici de vreo 6-7 ani exclama :" ooooooooooo! Domnisoare!"&lt;br /&gt;Apoi, se tine cu bicicleta dupa Gabi :)).&lt;br /&gt;Deci Gabi trezeste instincte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-2903858368041141765?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/2903858368041141765/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/07/cum-se-cheama.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2903858368041141765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2903858368041141765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/07/cum-se-cheama.html' title='Cum se cheama ?'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TCxGFylygrI/AAAAAAAAAZU/nYxmaVp7D-g/s72-c/Imag006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-3986196903514524692</id><published>2010-06-28T18:40:00.007+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T19:27:10.245+03:00</updated><title type='text'>BAC DE BASM feat. MAMA OMIDA</title><content type='html'>Proba la romana se reduce pana la urma la subiectul al III-lea. "La primele 2 subiecte scriu eu ceva!" Asa ca am facut concursul "Cine ghiceste ce pica la bac", dotat cu premii, ce-i drept, de 2 lei. Mancarea noastra preferata pe timp de criza: covrigii de la Georgi.&lt;br /&gt;Iata "previziunile":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Diana&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dianadragutzica: MOROMETII&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: asa&lt;br /&gt;dianadragutzica: e bine&lt;br /&gt;dianadragutzica: ?&lt;br /&gt;dianadragutzica: iti place&lt;br /&gt;dianadragutzica: ?&lt;br /&gt;dianadragutzica: ;;)&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: daaaaaaa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.Gabi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: te bagi la concurs?&lt;br /&gt;x_girl_gaby: a ku bacul&lt;br /&gt;x_girl_gaby: :))&lt;br /&gt;x_girl_gaby: eu zik k o sa pik o dem la roman&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: care roman?&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x_girl_gaby: pai d ales intre:morometzi,enigma si ion&lt;br /&gt;x_girl_gaby: sau poate mai multzi&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))))))))&lt;br /&gt;x_girl_gaby: cam ca la olimpiki&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.Radu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: daca ghicesti primesti 2 covrigi&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :))&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: aaa&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: stai intai sa vad posibilitatile:)_)&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :))&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :-?&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: ce mi as dori sa pice e luceafarul&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :D&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: ce pica:-?&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: sister cica basmul&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :)&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :))&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: io zic&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ca sa ma duc eu cu oile, a?&lt;br /&gt;radu01binhn: :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.Ovidiu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xg_robin: morometii&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: esti cu mike&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;xg_robin: atunci schimbam&lt;br /&gt;xg_robin: ca sa nu fim la fel&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ok...&lt;br /&gt;xg_robin: sa avem mai multe sanse de castig&lt;br /&gt;xg_robin: Ultima noapte&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: sa stii&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.George&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ce pica?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;adryano_gygy: enigma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.Geo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: jtiu eu&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: :))&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: da am dai 3 covrigi&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: sa auzim&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: :X&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: e roman&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: :))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: toata lumea a zis roman&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: vrei mai exact de atat?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: care roman?&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: sa vedem...&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: cred k ion&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: suntem in criza economica...astfel ministerul incearca sa vdm conditia taranului roman in realitate parlamentarii...ce ji iubesc f mult pamntul....ji pt pamnt renunta la tot&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: ce spui?&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: ;;)&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: meriti 3 ...covrigi&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: ok&lt;br /&gt;geolina_bubulina: :X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.Mike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: mike&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: tu ce zici ca pica la romana?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;mike_ro15: :-??&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: zii ceva&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: poate castigi 2 covrigi:))&lt;br /&gt;mike_ro15: morometii&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ar fi bine&lt;br /&gt;mike_ro15: sau basmu&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ca sa ma duc eu la oi, a?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))))))))))))&lt;br /&gt;mike_ro15: da:))&lt;br /&gt;mike_ro15: &gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8.Laura&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: eu cred&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: k pik basml&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: basmul&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: e cacat&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: nu vreau&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: :))k la capacitate&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: =))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: fi atenta&lt;br /&gt;doddylau:  ca aja am presimtit la capacitate&lt;br /&gt;doddylau: si aia a pikat&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ia mai presimte si tu altceva&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9.Sister&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ce?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: intelectualul?&lt;br /&gt;sister: da&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: lua-l-ar naiba se tot da camil de 4 ani se tot da&lt;br /&gt;sister: =))&lt;br /&gt;sister: dc e tare omu&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ultima noapte&lt;br /&gt;sister: dc va da morometii sunteti cei mai fericiti&lt;br /&gt;sister: :))))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: da&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10.Alin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: se da proza:D&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ce&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: :-?/&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: pai&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: nu stiu exact ce dar&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: la alegere dintre 3 romane&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: care&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: :-?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: sa te inscriu in competitie&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: pai&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: sa vdm&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: marin preda&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: slavici&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: si:-?&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: rebreanu&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :D&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: [-(&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: eu trebuia sa zic&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;suhane_alin: dar fie:))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11.Maxi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: :))&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: daca pica iar basmul&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: daca pica basmul&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: ce zici ?&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: :))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: ma las de scoala&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: :)))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: imi iau sapa&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: si letca veche scrie pe mine&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: asa ma gandeam si eu sa fac&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: iau turma de oi&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: laptop&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: vaci&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: wireless&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: si wow&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: :))&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: :))&lt;br /&gt;earthfirewaterloo_10: =)))))))))))))))))))))&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: ce mai pierd eu timpul&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: uite ce bine e&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: de gigi&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: cu oile lui&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: vreau si eu&lt;br /&gt;alexe_emilian_91: :))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Premiul se imparte intre Laura, Mike si sora lui Radu. Si cel mai tare din toata situatia e... Maxi.&lt;br /&gt;El a invatat doar basmul. Cand am aflat i-am zis sa invete si nuvela istorica pt. ca daca a invatat doar basmul, basmul pica. Mnah ...Ironia sortii. Trebuia sa ma opresc si eu din invatat prin... octombrie :)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si nu ma las de scoala dintr-un motiv foarte simplu: oile sunt scumpe, facultatea gratis :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-3986196903514524692?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/3986196903514524692/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/06/bac-de-basm-feat-mama-omida.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3986196903514524692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3986196903514524692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/06/bac-de-basm-feat-mama-omida.html' title='BAC DE BASM feat. MAMA OMIDA'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-7490957292960053139</id><published>2010-06-08T19:03:00.007+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T19:08:27.435+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ani de liceu reloaded</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qwwfjmhI/AAAAAAAAAYs/ISnTKt3oadM/s1600/altele+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qwwfjmhI/AAAAAAAAAYs/ISnTKt3oadM/s400/altele+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480435182439995922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qstzxYVI/AAAAAAAAAYk/o8ZD8Lp_3s8/s1600/altele+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qstzxYVI/AAAAAAAAAYk/o8ZD8Lp_3s8/s400/altele+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480435113000001874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qkTq8RBI/AAAAAAAAAYc/xOaaXDOECc4/s1600/altele+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qkTq8RBI/AAAAAAAAAYc/xOaaXDOECc4/s400/altele+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480434968544691218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Evolutia chimistilor de la 12A&lt;br /&gt;2. Clasa la inceputul anului&lt;br /&gt;3. Pt cine isi mai aduce aminte :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-7490957292960053139?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/7490957292960053139/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/06/ani-de-liceu-reloaded.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7490957292960053139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7490957292960053139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/06/ani-de-liceu-reloaded.html' title='Ani de liceu reloaded'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA5qwwfjmhI/AAAAAAAAAYs/ISnTKt3oadM/s72-c/altele+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-4922381918952630775</id><published>2010-06-07T22:54:00.008+03:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T19:15:53.563+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ani de liceu cu teme la psihologie :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PMh5WsrI/AAAAAAAAAX0/QwBVyLBM_BM/s1600/clopotel+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PMh5WsrI/AAAAAAAAAX0/QwBVyLBM_BM/s400/clopotel+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480123398255719090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PH5_I9tI/AAAAAAAAAXs/QPlLrV5H-pI/s1600/clopotel+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PH5_I9tI/AAAAAAAAAXs/QPlLrV5H-pI/s400/clopotel+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480123318823089874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PAy9-5yI/AAAAAAAAAXk/xTT69CL-qV8/s1600/clopotel+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PAy9-5yI/AAAAAAAAAXk/xTT69CL-qV8/s400/clopotel+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480123196680103714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.:Pentru cei care nu stiu sau, mai grav, nu isi aduc aminte trebuia sa intregesti desenul pornind de la liniile ingrosate. Asta i-a iesit lui Radu. Profa i-a zis sa le rupa din caiet sa nu aiba surprize daca avem inspectie. Era de inteles. Le-am pastrat cu gandul la saptamana asta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-4922381918952630775?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/4922381918952630775/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/06/ani-de-liceu-cu-teme-la-psihologie.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4922381918952630775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4922381918952630775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/06/ani-de-liceu-cu-teme-la-psihologie.html' title='Ani de liceu cu teme la psihologie :)'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/TA1PMh5WsrI/AAAAAAAAAX0/QwBVyLBM_BM/s72-c/clopotel+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6530139686866112235</id><published>2010-05-21T22:33:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T19:20:48.956+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sub asediu</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S_6bPvI1XnI/AAAAAAAAAW0/H2aNNy3hRZ8/s1600/sleep_dealer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 218px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S_6bPvI1XnI/AAAAAAAAAW0/H2aNNy3hRZ8/s320/sleep_dealer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475984891582963314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Duc o viata paralela. Da, stiu ca banuiati! Fiecare zi se imparte intre doua lumi, nu foarte diferite. Sa zicem ca in cealalta totul e posibil. Mai sunt 5 ore pana vine noaptea si atunci ma voi dezlantui. O parte va ramane adormita, parasita in pozitie de fetus, uitata in patul galben, iar cealalta va pleca...Unde?...Niciodata nu stie. Unde ii vine in gand. Ultima oara s-a plimbat cu bicicleta pe un turn vertical si a facut-o sa tresare pe cealalta jumatate. Nu se prea inteleg... Bicicleta se topeste, turnul se crapa, apoi cade, se darama. Apar campii verzi, dureroase,atat de verzi incat simti gust acru in gura...Alearga, sare, iar muschii celeilalte jumatati se incordeaza. I se pune un carcel. Pentru cateva secunde se pierde contactul din cauza durerii. Aventura continua. Ajunge la o prapastie. Danseaza pasi de vals pe muchie alergand dupa un fluture cu aripa muscata. Isi pierde echilibrul si cade plutind pe o masa de aer mirosind a iasomie. Cealalta jumatate tocmai a cazut din pat. Ciudata sincronizare! Nocturna-eu e mai rautacioasa si apeleaza mereu la viclesuguri pentru a castiga timp. Dimineata o pacaleste pe diurna-eu sa opreasca alarma si o convinge sa se puna inapoi in pat. Astfel, ziua incepe cu obisnuita intarziere. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt; Imi ascund bine cealalta jumatate chiar o altoiesc putin pentru ca se razvrateste. Abia asteapta sa se joace iar...mai sunt 17 ore...&lt;br /&gt;A inceput deja sa numere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;De cateva zile incoace, nocturna-eu a pus la cale o revolta (nu impotriva guvernului Boc). O stare de somnolenta grava ma apuca atunci cand mi-e lumea mai draga. Sper sa ajungem la un armistitiu.&lt;br /&gt;P.S.:&lt;/span&gt; In timpul somnului se activeaza aceleasi regiuni ale creierului care au fost active in timpul evenimentelor traite in timpul zilei. Creierul reia aceste evenimente la o viteza de sase-sapte ori mai mare decat viteza din cursul evenimentelor desfasurate de-a lungul zilei.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6530139686866112235?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6530139686866112235/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/05/duc-o-viata-paralela.html#comment-form' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6530139686866112235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6530139686866112235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/05/duc-o-viata-paralela.html' title='Sub asediu'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S_6bPvI1XnI/AAAAAAAAAW0/H2aNNy3hRZ8/s72-c/sleep_dealer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-1976948202519570992</id><published>2010-02-19T17:56:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T18:11:59.265+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Jamie Oliver</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S363vwRDNHI/AAAAAAAAAWs/-hqtVu2bOes/s1600-h/jamies-eat-to-save-your-li.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S363vwRDNHI/AAAAAAAAAWs/-hqtVu2bOes/s320/jamies-eat-to-save-your-li.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439987430948287602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am vazut , de curand, documentarul "Eat to save your life". A aparut in 2008 , dar cum in Romania informatia circula mai incet... "Bine  ai venit in Romania! da-ti ceasul cu 50 de ani in urma". Tipu' prezinta calatoria alimentelor din furculita pana la celule. Iar Gunther von Hagens e de-a dreptul sadic.Hagens oferă spectacole zilnice, sub numele Teatrul Anatomic. Spectatorii privesc cum sunt disecate corpurile, iar organele şi bolile de care au suferit le sunt arătate şi explicate pe larg.  De ce trebuie sa te uiti:&lt;br /&gt;-Compara cantitatea de fecale produsa de un britanic cu una produsa de un african :))&lt;br /&gt;-Disectiile sunt horror: -congeleaza 2 cadavre si le taie feliute :), disectie facuta pe un barbat de vreo 150 kg.&lt;br /&gt;-Fac teste voluntarilor si rezultatele sunt socante.&lt;br /&gt;-Poate te convinge sa nu mai mananci fast-food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srUZwQf76Xs"&gt;link:Eat to save your life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-1976948202519570992?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/1976948202519570992/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/02/jamie-oliver.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/1976948202519570992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/1976948202519570992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/02/jamie-oliver.html' title='Jamie Oliver'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S363vwRDNHI/AAAAAAAAAWs/-hqtVu2bOes/s72-c/jamies-eat-to-save-your-li.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-4955587532275990492</id><published>2010-02-18T20:06:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T20:35:27.038+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Megalopolisul Jegului</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S32HmIL68FI/AAAAAAAAAWE/Yx1a78Uv0hc/s1600-h/parameci.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 87px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S32HmIL68FI/AAAAAAAAAWE/Yx1a78Uv0hc/s320/parameci.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439653014035689554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A fost o zi plina de oameni trazniti, coplesiti de vremuri, de sentimentul inutilitatii. Mocirla asta de pe strazi ne imbolnaveste (si la propriu si la figurat).Nici nu e de mirare ca iti vine sa stai mai mult in casa si sa tragi jaluzelele sa nu mai ai niciun contact cu exteriorul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Bucuresti-u' este megalopolisul jegului.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Imi imaginez bacteriile cum huzuresc in noroi, iar paramecii le fugaresc gafaind. Cand reusesc sa le prinda le indeasa in vacuola digestiva. Multi dintre ei mor de tineri pentru ca mananca prea mult. Iar mortii sunt luati de talpile cizmelor si purtati intr-un cortegiu funerar prin tot orasul. Ti se imbolnaveste creierul cand vezi un oras care arata ca un cuib de sobolani, iar sobolanilor le arde de circ...si de paine...Zapada asta de pe strazi nici nu mai cred ca e zapada pentru ca nu se topeste. Intr-o tara in care nimic nu e logic orice se poate. "Romania- simply illogical"-brandu' de tara. Tot ce invatam la scoala despre economie, filosofie, politica,etica, trebuie sa ne imaginam pentru ca nu putem sa recunoastem nimic in "tara minunilor". Romanii sunt oameni cu foarte multa imaginatie, o imaginatie toxica, dar nu mai toxica decat realitatea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-4955587532275990492?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/4955587532275990492/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/02/fost-o-zi-plina-de-oameni-trazniti.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4955587532275990492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4955587532275990492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/02/fost-o-zi-plina-de-oameni-trazniti.html' title='Megalopolisul Jegului'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S32HmIL68FI/AAAAAAAAAWE/Yx1a78Uv0hc/s72-c/parameci.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-2725142102301915068</id><published>2010-01-21T21:39:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T19:56:31.647+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ferma de furnici</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S31-ph3Le5I/AAAAAAAAAV8/__vgRx89iuk/s1600-h/hartia_igienica.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 117px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S31-ph3Le5I/AAAAAAAAAV8/__vgRx89iuk/s320/hartia_igienica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439643176862972818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sentimentul asta il am de cateva zile incoace. Nu vi se pare ca suntem prea multi si fara niciun rol? Succesul omului se traduce in masini de lux si case, case, case, case. In raport cu un soarece de camp nu avem nimic superior. Strangem mult si prost. Nu conteaza ca lumea in care traim arata jalnic atata timp cat avem un viloi de neam prost si cel putin 2 masini categoria "sa moara toti dusmanii de ciuda".&lt;br /&gt;O simpla plimbare imi provoaca scarba. Gunoaie peste tot, cladiri gri si cersetori, multi cersetori...&lt;br /&gt;Profa de filosofie ne invata ce e moral in acceptia lui Kant:&lt;br /&gt;Unui cersetor trebuie sa ii dai bani din datorie si nu din mila pentru ca altfel actiunea ta nu este morala.&lt;br /&gt;Si daca nu vreau sa-i dau deloc? Cum se cheama asta?&lt;br /&gt;Si cum sa nu te bucuri in sinea ta cand pitipoanca e blocata intr-o intersectie si tipa in disperari la telefon ca politistul de la circulatie nu o lasa sa treaca pe verde?&lt;br /&gt;Dar cand oamenii se bat pe cartile de la Adevarul , desi au acasa aceleasi carti, doar ca sa decoreze noua biblioteca luata pe credit de nevoi personale ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Circuitul nesimtirii, prostiei si indolentei in natura...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-2725142102301915068?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/2725142102301915068/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/01/ferma-de-furnici.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2725142102301915068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2725142102301915068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2010/01/ferma-de-furnici.html' title='Ferma de furnici'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/S31-ph3Le5I/AAAAAAAAAV8/__vgRx89iuk/s72-c/hartia_igienica.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-7599917009452718278</id><published>2009-05-27T19:11:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T21:59:50.268+03:00</updated><title type='text'>uau</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/Sh1ux6vZTqI/AAAAAAAAAVg/Q3-7hE8mGjQ/s1600-h/world_of_warcraft_guild.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/Sh1ux6vZTqI/AAAAAAAAAVg/Q3-7hE8mGjQ/s320/world_of_warcraft_guild.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340546536991968930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/Sh1uk8ZIPrI/AAAAAAAAAVY/dwIIGrJ8uwM/s1600-h/wow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 113px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/Sh1uk8ZIPrI/AAAAAAAAAVY/dwIIGrJ8uwM/s320/wow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340546314097147570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iata ce ne spune Wikipedia despre World of Warcraft:"jucătorii controlează un personaj creat de ei într-o lume în continuă dezvoltare, explorând relieful, ducând la îndeplinire misiuni (questuri) date de NPC-uri (Non-playable characters - personaje controlate de computer), ucigând monştrii, şi facând multe altele. Personajele sunt răsplătite cu bani, obiecte şi experienţă, care le ajută dându-le mai multă putere şi posibilitatea de a învăţa abilităţi noi. De asemenea, jucătorii  pot lupta împotriva altor jucători în dueluri sau războaie împotriva aliantelor inamice."&lt;br /&gt;Pana acum nimic nou. Un joc precum toate celelalte. Nu am jucat niciodata, dar cei mai multi cu care am vorbit au devenit dependenti dupa doar 1 ora de joc. La scoala, zilele astea e plictiseala mare. "Bunul simt matematic"e nesimtit si convalescent, lumea zace si nimeni nu are chef de nimic. Un singur lucru ii resusciteaza pe Alin, Cristina si Alexe.Wow. Deja ma apuca nervii cand ii aud. Unu e in hoarda, altu in alianta, aseara s-a dat atac...bla bla. Cristina povestea ca si-a cumparat un nou parfum (in wow- bineinteles) si o pereche de pantaloni care ii fac fundul mai misto. Poseda un animalut de companie: un vultur cu fund de leu. Vultur cu coada, am uitat cum se numeste. Ei, Cristina zboara pe chestia asta si cica e foarte tare, frate! Ea nu mai stiu ce clasa e: mage, druid  sau shaman?! Alexe uita sa manance, Alin la fel. Joaca pana la epuizare. In fine. Ceea ce am inteles eu din discutiile lor este ca sunt platiti sa hacuiasca orci, creaturi etc. Pentru asta primesc bani si le creste levelu. Cateodata se dau si petreceri. Se bea, se danseaza pe mese, apoi dorm unii peste altii. Se pupa, se... . Poti primi cadouri. Cristina a primit nu stiu ce cadou, dar nu merge si vrea sa-l liciteze.  In wow e isterie cand e storming(cred ca asa se numeste). Personajele sar navala sa castige gold. Cica e unu foarte puternic de care fug toti, nu mai stiu cum il cheama. O sa ma interesez. Un exemplu de banc in wow:" Hristos a inviat! Ce level avea?".  Il intreb o data pe Alexe despre ce vorbesc, la care el uimit:"cum, Ioana, nu stii geografie?". Toti se zbat sa atinga level 70. Asteptam si eu sa termine, dar surpriza: s-au reapucat! cred ca sunt si eu dependenta alaturi de ei. Acum cateva zile mi-a dat Cristina un filmulet cu niste scarbosenii (din wow) ,care cantau. Acum fredonez melodia. Unii mai platesc si o groaza de bani ca sa-si pastreze contu de uau. Cert e ca e grav. articol de ziar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="textArticol"&gt;Jocul video "World of Warcraft" a fost descris ca producand "o dependenta mai puternica decat cocaina", dupa ce un adolescent a intrat in convulsii jucand non-stop peste 24 de ore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jocul a fost numit de catre terapeuti "cel mai periculos video-game de pe piata", dupa ce un baiat de 15 ani din Suedia a cedat dupa ce a jucat non-stop 24 de ore si a intrat convulsii, informeaza cotidianul britanic The Telegraph.&lt;br /&gt;Voi ce stiti despre wow?&lt;br /&gt;Iata si &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0_oRtED3y0"&gt;melodia&lt;/a&gt; mirobolanta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-7599917009452718278?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/7599917009452718278/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/05/uau.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7599917009452718278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7599917009452718278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/05/uau.html' title='uau'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/Sh1ux6vZTqI/AAAAAAAAAVg/Q3-7hE8mGjQ/s72-c/world_of_warcraft_guild.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8087367871945643221</id><published>2009-05-14T20:01:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T21:14:25.066+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Ingheeeeetataaaa!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/ShL23iqWWII/AAAAAAAAAUA/ovmxiQ-x4Yw/s1600-h/IMG_5525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/ShL23iqWWII/AAAAAAAAAUA/ovmxiQ-x4Yw/s200/IMG_5525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337599942445127810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/SgxTXKKLvHI/AAAAAAAAATw/wBr8VGFt3XQ/s1600-h/inghe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 85px; height: 127px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/SgxTXKKLvHI/AAAAAAAAATw/wBr8VGFt3XQ/s320/inghe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335731315856358514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zilele astea m-au coplesit aducerile-aminte privindu-i pe doi frati cum se bateau pe un cornet de inghetata. Aveam 8 ani si luasem prima mea vacanta. Imi petreceam majoritatea timpului cu varu' Anton chinuind radasce si ingropand pui. Pe la 4 dupa-amiaza venea masina cu inghetata prin sat. O vad ca prin vis. O Dacie break, alba, ruginita pe la usi, cu geamurile deschise si cu un nene care craonea: ingheeetataaa! hai lumeee! Apoi, strada se umplea de omuleti care alergau dupa masina. Unii aveau banii pregatiti deja, altii fibrilau cautand. Cei mai multi ii furasera. Eu stateam si ma uitam nepasatoare. Nu aveam voie sa mananc inghetata pentru ca era facuta din oua clocite si lapte stricat- asa imi spusese mamaia. Varu' Antonica se certase un pic cu ma-sa mare, tanti Sevasta, dar pana la urma, aceasta ,mai binevoitoare decat mamaia, se invoise. Masina a oprit si s-a facut rapid o coada. Cate 2 linguri de inghetata pe un cornet faramicios, 5000 de lei. Intotdeauna nu era inghetata pentru toata lumea. Antonica vine si se aseaza pe banca lingandu-si inghetata care i se topea pe maini. Toata lumea era fericita. Mamaia l-a vazut si i-a zis: Poate te imbolnavesti, nu stii ca e facuta din oua clocite? Lasa ca ii spun eu Sevastii! Apoi, trece un Aro cu viteza. Soseaua se umple de praf, la fel si inghetata. Mai dureaza o secunda si toata inghetata pica pe jos. Bietu' Antonica! Era in stare sa o linga de pe jos! Lasa, mah, ca iti iei alta maine!&lt;br /&gt;p.s.:mersi Ovidiu pt imagine :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8087367871945643221?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8087367871945643221/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ingheeeeetataaaa.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8087367871945643221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8087367871945643221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/05/ingheeeeetataaaa.html' title='Ingheeeeetataaaa!'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_V99gMyZzH74/ShL23iqWWII/AAAAAAAAAUA/ovmxiQ-x4Yw/s72-c/IMG_5525.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6396339658356913433</id><published>2009-04-08T19:23:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T20:03:07.660+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Morometii reloaded</title><content type='html'>Au trecut 3 saptamani si de atunci multe lucruri s-au mai intamplat :D. O mai tineti minte pe juna noastra ? Saptamanile acestea toata suflarea din Ciomardac a fost cu ochii pe cei 2 "maimutoi"-cum sunt numiti in limbajul ciomardacesc tinerii casatoriti. Nu trecuse nicio saptamana de cand junii se lausera ca Luluta  a si calcat stramb. Se facea ca era o dimineata insorita de martie. Luluta inca mai dormea cand Niculaie se pregatea sa plece la serviciu-"plantator de borduri in Bucuresti". Insa ganduri tulburi  ii treceau prin  minte lui Niculaie. Cu o seara inainte gasise aruncat in curte un bilet:&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;br /&gt;            "ai grije bai fraiere ca proasta aia de Luluta te traduce. stiu ieu. Sa vezi tu ca maine dupa ce pleci la munca vine Marar pa la ia. Maine poimaine iti face un borac si o sa te miri de ce ie asa negru. Sa nu zici ca nu tiam zis. Hai ne vedem la munca.&lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                                          anominu "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niculaie, iute la fire, a vrut sa o bata pe Luluta, dar a vorbit cu fratele lui, Sandu, si au hotarat sa o pandeasca pe Dracoaica. "Mi-a mancat sufletu' daca e adevarat!"-zicea Nae cu zaduf.&lt;br /&gt;A asteptat 2 ore in gluga de coceni, doar-doar o prinde in fapt. Incepuse sa regrete ca a banuit-o pe "gogosel" de o asa fapta. Deodata, pe ulita, se aude un fluierat.  Era Marar pe motoreta lu' ta-su' mare. Stupoare! Marar isi ascunde motoreta in curte la baba Dumitra si da sa intre in curte la Niculaie. Usa casei se deschide si iese Luluta, proaspata ca o floare de musetel. "Ai venit, Tzontzonel? ce dor mi-a fost de tine!". Pe Niculaie curgeau apele in gluga de coceni urmarind aceasta scena. Cei doi au intrat in casa, iar Niculaie a intervenit dupa o jumatate de ora. Ce a urmat nu e greu de ghicit. Luluta a mancat bataie cu nuiaua de dud, iar Marar a rupt-o la fuga. Cel mai interesant este ca si soacra Lulutei, mama lui Niculaie, a mancat bataie de la fi-su' ca nu i-a pazit bine giuvaeru'.Luluta si-a petrecut urmatoarele zile bocind sub plapuma. Dupa 2 zile a venit si maica-sa. A batut-o si ea, apoi a batut-o si soacra-sa, apoi lucrurile au revenit la normal. Cei doi se plimba din nou pe scuter prin sat. A mai trecut o saptamana, in care Luluta a fost atent supravegheata de mama soacra si de Sandu, fratele lui Niculaie. Si cum era plictiseala in Ciomardac era nevoie de o noua barfa, care nu a intarziat sa apara. Juna e gravida. Cu cine? nu se stie. Mai trebuie sa asteptam 9 luni. Voi pe cine pariati?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6396339658356913433?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6396339658356913433/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/04/morometii-reloaded.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6396339658356913433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6396339658356913433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/04/morometii-reloaded.html' title='Morometii reloaded'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-3286886235490956226</id><published>2009-03-16T22:20:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T18:55:52.816+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cromozomii lui Moromete</title><content type='html'>Weekendu' asta am fost la tara. Stiti... locul ala unde timpul e cu 100 de ani mai tanar, oamenii sunt sugubeti si beti, iar idilele si cele mai noi vesti din "societate" sunt discutate la un pahar de vorba cu andrelele in mana. Ei bine, am asistat si eu la un consiliu. Erau prezente cele patru puteri: tanti Tanta alias PROtv-ul, tanti Sevasta alias Platonita, tanti Veta alias "mereu vesela" si domnu' Lisandru- impaciuitor intre doamne. Incepem cu stirea bomba-"breiching niuz". Fata lu' Stan si lu 'Maricica, nepoata Zenobiei din Ciomardac, ruda cu Tanase al lu' Clocitu' si sora cu Fanica Titirez s-a maritat. Juna fericita are numai 15 ani. Ce oroare. De fapt... ati auzit? Era sugubeata de la 14. Si inca foarte." Am vazut-o eu cum umbla pe sosea !  Cat sa-i rezisti?!" Junele posesor de nevasta are si el...18 ani. Se numeste Niculaie si e orfan de tata. Marin al lu' Chibrit (tasu') a murit de inima rea. Nevasta-sa, Tudorita e femeie "iubitoare". "Lasa ca am vazut eu coada la poarta la ea! Fura Misu mereu cate o sticla de vin si oua si ii duce!", iar tanti Sevasta isi arata dispretul fata de consateanca sa:"Ptiu!". Nea Lisandru tace molcom. A iubit-o de cand ii mijeau mustatile. Incearca un spirit de gluma. "Lasa ca or folosi prezervativ!" Vinul si gluma se impletesc si rezulta o criza de ras inabusit cu obraji rosii de nerusine."Lasa ca tu stii mai bine, Lisandre!" Imediat incep si presupunerile. Tanti Tanta crede ca juna e gravida, "va spui eu, sigur e, altfel nu fugea ea , asa, in toiu' primaverii!" dupa o indelunga tacere deschide si Veta gura:"cred ca din cauza crizei economice, nu mai are lumea bani". Ceilalti tac, Veta e mai proasta, saraca, o bate mereu barba-su' in cap." Nu cred ca or sa stea prea mult! Tudorita n-are de unde s-o mai tie si pe trantorita aia. Auziti si voi! nici vaca n-are!" Lisandru mai toarna in pahare cu sufletu' indoit... s-a golit si sticla asta! "Hehe! Pun pariu ca se duce ta-su' dupa ea cu politia, el vroia s-o marite cu baiatu' lu' sefu' de post!" , "daca zici tu , Lisandre, om trai si om vedea". Deodata, zarva afara. Cei patru ies afara ca arsi, e rost de barfa noua. Si asa a fost. Pe strada treceau cei 2 sugubeti. Se tineau de mana si se pupau cu foc. "A dracu', n-are pic de rusine!"- soptea Tanta in coltul basmalei. Ochii ii urmareau pe cei doi cum se departau. "Hai ca am vazut-o si p-asta!", 'Hai ca plec, ma duc sa mulg vaca!", "Plec si eu, vine Nae de la Rebu." Si soarele apune si el parca spunand:" hai ca am vazut-o si p-asta!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-3286886235490956226?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/3286886235490956226/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/03/cromozomii-lui-moromete.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3286886235490956226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3286886235490956226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/03/cromozomii-lui-moromete.html' title='cromozomii lui Moromete'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-1715343043134933800</id><published>2009-02-18T17:38:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T18:03:08.408+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Hartia igienica</title><content type='html'>Astazi este 18 februarie. Este   &lt;i&gt;Ziua naţională&lt;/i&gt; a Gambiei- Aniversarea proclamării independenţei (&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;1965&lt;/span&gt;), daca nu stiati (nici eu nu stiam). Stiam ca trebuie sa fie o zi speciala. Am avut parte de "de toate" in ceea ce priveste conditiile climatice: a nins, a batut vantul,a fost ger, a iesit soarele, acum asteptam sa ploua. Starea de dormitare se intindea ca o plaga pe masura ce treceau orele. Ochi pe jumatate inchisi, gand afara, iar muzicuta explicatiilor era un somnifer ordinar luat in cantitati industriale fara prescriptie medicala. Noua profesoara de mate este in continuare o enigma. Macar azi a fost mai bine. "Ia spuneti, copii, care este definitia functiei?" sau "Cum calculam sinusul?". Cand ochii nu mai rezistau oboselii, cautau un refugiu. Il gaseau in hartia igienica ce flutura in bataia vantului. Era ceva magic, datator de energie. Nu treceau 5 minute fara sa ma uit la ea. Si nu eram singura. Acea  hartie ingienica era o scara spre cer, dar nimeni nu indraznea sa se catere. Ne uitam unul la altul sa vedem care are curajul. Sper sa fie si maine acolo. Ma voi catara. Sper sa nu aiba capat, iar daca are sa nu fie cel la care ma gandesc. La ora de economie profesoara ne-a rugat sa o ajutam sa nu adoarma. Era, deci, ceva in aer. Hartia continua sa fluture indiferenta, superioara. O hartie igienica. Ma intreb cum e sa lucrezi la o fabrica de hartie igienica. "Ce face tatal tau?" "Sterge la fund pe toata lumea." Insa, creatorul hartiei magice este eminamente un geniu. A reusit sa atraga atentia prin opera sa. Acum este nemuritor.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-1715343043134933800?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/1715343043134933800/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/hartia-igienica.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/1715343043134933800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/1715343043134933800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/hartia-igienica.html' title='Hartia igienica'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-9032823143684697961</id><published>2009-02-12T20:58:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T21:24:44.107+02:00</updated><title type='text'>unda.viteza.ciocnire.culoare.</title><content type='html'>Lumea e un haos, inecat intr-o pacla groasa, neagra, dispretuitoare. In lume lucrurile se invart in cercuri.Sunt mii de cercuri. Cercul e infinitul, e bucla timpului, e filozofia vietii. Viata sufla in acest haos ca un vant capricios. Haosul capata forme, bucle pitigaiate(oameni) care apoi sunt spulberate cand vantul se plictiseste. Soarele-unul din sclavii Universului a fost blestemat sa crape periodic negrul haosului. Razele sale strabat mii de kilometrii, cu viteza uimitoare si se ciocnesc cu haosul. Impactul e nimicitor, iar din fuziunea lor se naste culoarea. Sunt doua fiinte silite sa se iubeasca in fiecare zi. Culorile sa scalda printre rafale de vant. Mor cand apune soarele, scaldate in tonuri de rosu-sangeriu si oranj violent. Haosul meu e capricios zilele astea, ii e dor de Soare. Vantul sufla dinspre Miaza-Zi cu o putere scazuta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-9032823143684697961?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/9032823143684697961/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/undavitezaciocnireculoare.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/9032823143684697961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/9032823143684697961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/undavitezaciocnireculoare.html' title='unda.viteza.ciocnire.culoare.'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-4914432845289524265</id><published>2009-02-11T17:57:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T19:56:21.310+02:00</updated><title type='text'>magnetii</title><content type='html'>A venit  ziua. Toti asteapta raspunsul. E baiat sau fata? Bucuria e de 2 ori mai mare daca e baiat. Duce numele mai departe si e "mai ieftin". Vine gradinita. Baietei mereu murdari (oricat s-ar stradui mamele) , fetitele cu pampoane si dresuri albe privesc cu dispret "creaturile" de sex opus. Ew! dezgustator! Fetitele se feresc de baietei, ii considera prostuti , rai si mereu agresivi. Imi aduc aminte de un coleg de la gradinita caruia ii curgeau mereu mucii si facea balonase la nas cand respira. In cele mai bune cazuri se stergea cu hartie igienica. In aceasta etapa baieteii si fetitele se resping si nu vor sa se joace impreuna. Vine primara. Respingerea creste pe masura ce suntem obligati sa stam in banca : baiat-fata. O data mi-am batut colegul de banca pana l-am invinetit pentru ca mi-a mazgalit caietul. A doua zi a venit mama acestuia la scoala. Baietii adora sa sacaie fetele: le ridica fustele, le enerveaza si spun prostii vazute dupa 12 noaptea la tv. Fetele exceleaza la caligrafie, iar baietii umplu caietele de pete de cerneala. Se bat cu mancare, trag fetele de par, vorbesc urat. Fetele privesc cu dispret, dar in sinea lor si-ar dori sa poata faca asta. Apoi, incet incet incep sa vorbeasca, la inceput pe un ton de superioritate. Si lucrurile se modifica o data cu anii. Urmeaza perioada critica- pubertatea, cand fiecare dintre cei doi incearca sa-i atraga atentia celuilalt. Lucrurile evolueaza si poate se casatoresc. Primii ani sunt minunati. Certurile se inmultesc treptat, urmeaza o perioada constanta, apoi a 2 a perioada critica... realizarea ca au imbatranit. Sunt gelosi unul pe altul. Apoi, partenerul imbatraneste, incepe sa miroasa a "batran", pieile curg,dioptriile cresc , parul e alb, copii sunt mari, se casatoresc, fac copii la randul lor. Batranetea se extinde ca o plaga , fizic si psihic. Mosul sforaie, citeste ziarele de 5 ori pe zi, se uita la meciuri, e morocanos, adoarme cu gura deschisa. Baba impleteste mileuri  toata ziua, urmareste telenovelele de pe acasa, barfeste cu vecinele, se plimba cu autobuzul si se cearta cu tinerii care ocupa scaunele. Le e frica de moarte, dar nu fac altceva toata ziua decat sa o astepte. Parca speranta ca nepotii ii vor tine minte le mai coloreaza zilele. E un cerc vicios in care ne invartim de mii de ani. Cred ca s-a plictisit si cercul , ar vrea si el sa incerce altceva.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-4914432845289524265?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/4914432845289524265/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/magnetii.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4914432845289524265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4914432845289524265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/magnetii.html' title='magnetii'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8133669006666025000</id><published>2009-02-09T18:05:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T18:29:29.120+02:00</updated><title type='text'>copil si mortacini</title><content type='html'>Am avut o copilarie fericita, presarata cu de toate, ca un tort prost ornat. Am fost (si sunt) un copilas mozaic.  Am facut de toate, am pictat pereti de plictiseala, am mancat bataie, am furat cirese, am batut copii, am scris tabla inmultirii de 20 de ori etc. Pasiunea mea era sa ingrop. Sa ingrop pui morti, ratuste moarte, vrabiute, papagalii, pui de bufnita cazuti din cuib, pui de veverita. Aveam 4 ani cand m-am apucat. O vrabiuta. Cutiute de pantofi , cruci legate cu ata, tamaie, lumanari. Apoi o jeleam pana ma plictiseam si-mi imaginam ca se bucura ca am avut grija de ea. Ii puneam floricele pe mormant si crengute de brad. Cand ramaneam fara lumanari furam de la mamaia. Tamaia o luam de pe scoarta brazilor. Ajunsesem sa am mai multe cimitire: sub brad, langa alee, sub bolta de vita-de-vie. Seara, cand aprindeam lumanarile, curtea parca era un sanctuar satanist (chiar o intrebau vecinele pe mamaia daca face farmece :)) ). Ingrijeam puii cu picioare strambe, fara picioare, cu ciocul stramb si speram sa nu moara. Dar mureau. Si ii ingropam. Aratam tuturor "locul meu de joaca". Ma simteam bine, credeam ca fac o fapta buna si eram mandra de mine. Ce poate fi mai bun?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8133669006666025000?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8133669006666025000/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/copil-si-mortacini.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8133669006666025000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8133669006666025000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/02/copil-si-mortacini.html' title='copil si mortacini'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-7272920372339948956</id><published>2009-01-28T19:23:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T20:06:03.260+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Broscoii</title><content type='html'>Afara e frig, ploua marunt, sacadat, lumea calca prin balti si injura, umbrelele nu mai fac fata, masinile gem la semafor, noroiu' e in al-9-lea cer, vine vacanta (aia jegosa de numai o saptamana), se incheie medii. Pe strazi e GRI, cerul e vested, zoaie, lume imbufnata... Culoarea se stinge pe zi ce trece, speranta unui soare mai "vanjos" se pierde. Oamenii se transforma, inoata pe strazi ca niste rame dolofane, in cete pestrite, colorate de impermeabile si umbrele. Noroiul canta sub rotile masinilor, stergatoarele de la masini scartaie. Nici cainii din fata bisericii nu o duc prea bine. Blana uda ii face sa tremure si sa se scuture periodic. Din canale ies aburi albi, puturosi, care capata forme himerice. Incearca sa prinda oamenii in mrejele lor si se tulbura cand acestia scapa. O atmosfera pe care Bacovia ar fi gelos ca nu a surprins-o. O stare de hibernare, un picur molcom pe geam, un somn adanc si o cana cu ceai fierbinte. Sper ca o sa supravietuim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-7272920372339948956?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/7272920372339948956/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/01/broscoii.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7272920372339948956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7272920372339948956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/01/broscoii.html' title='Broscoii'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6922553767970435029</id><published>2009-01-27T22:37:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T22:45:15.840+02:00</updated><title type='text'>sticleti la cap</title><content type='html'>In fiecare duminica imi promit sa nu mai dorm pana la unu dupa-amiaza. Niciodata nu reusesc. Si ma trezesc intotdeauna cand soarele e pe la jumatate si mancarea e gata si lumea e satula deja de munca (citez). Apoi mai urmeaza perioada de lene prelungita, in care ma gandesc daca sa ma ridic din pat. Deseori raman in pat. Duminica asta m-am trezit, buimaca, si m-am instalat la birou si ma uitam pe geam. In curtea parasita, mancata de vreme, unde ciulinii se simt la ei acasa, sobolanii sunt in habitatul lor natural, pasarile isi fac cuib prin iarba si casa e adapost de serpi. Ei bine, in curtea asta erau peste 100 de sticleti care mancau seminte de ciulini si dadeau din cap cu frecventa de vreo 50 Hz. Si i-am prinvit asa o jumatate de ora pana cand am plecat. Cand m-am intors nu mai erau acolo. Probabil ma trezisem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6922553767970435029?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6922553767970435029/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/01/sticleti-la-cap.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6922553767970435029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6922553767970435029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/01/sticleti-la-cap.html' title='sticleti la cap'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6832742200926087144</id><published>2009-01-25T23:45:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T22:07:30.551+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cioburi</title><content type='html'>Se face ca de la o vreme incoace toate mi se par urate, hidoase, fara sens si vad numai partea urata a lucrurilor. Lumea pe care ne-o construim, noi, varful piramidei trofice , homo sapiens sapiens (si alte denumiri de preamarire), este lipsita de orice farmec. Cladiri gigantice, gri, orase aglomerate,masini, PET-uri, de la mancare la haine...tot. Gunoaiele au inceput sa ne caracterizeze habitatul. Peste tot sticle de plastic, pungi resturi etc.  Pana si sobolanii cred ca isi tin cuibul mai curat. Suntem o dezamagire pentru Mama Natura. Cred ca suntem copilul  neasculator al acesteia , copilul urat care face rau, care isi bate fratii, arunca cu mancarea si distruge tot ceea ce primeste. In clasa a4a am citit Craiasa Zapezii si nu mi-a placut datorita urateniei si rautatii pe care o descria. Craiasa Zapezii era o fiinta rea, careia ii placea sa vada oamenii suferind. Locuia in ceruri si avea o oglinda mare in care toate lucrurile se vedeau urate. Oamenii se vedeau desfigurati, hidosi. In oglinda erau de fapt sufletele lor. Ei bine, intr-o zi, oglinda s-a spart si a cazut din palatul Craiesei. Mii de cioburi au cazut pe pamant si au intrat in ochii oamenilor. Printre acesti oameni era un baietel pe nume Karl. Karl vedea de acum, mereu, partea urata a lucrurilor, a oamenilor. Mi-a cazut si mie un ciob in ochi? Dar sunt mai multe...:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6832742200926087144?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6832742200926087144/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/01/cioburi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6832742200926087144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6832742200926087144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2009/01/cioburi.html' title='cioburi'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-55715777832333281</id><published>2008-12-17T20:23:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T21:09:18.352+02:00</updated><title type='text'>despre sarbatori</title><content type='html'>Oare de ce nu ma mai bucur de mult de sarbatori? Mi s-a stricat, oare, aparatul declansator de euforia si nebunia cumpararii cadourilor? Am devenit vegetariana? Sunt musulmana? Niciuna...        &lt;br /&gt;  Sarbatorile au devenit pentru mine o ocazie de somn si doar atat. Asta cu spiritul Craciunului, bucuria impodobirii bradului, taiatul porcului sunt doar niste obiceiuri obligatorii care nu-mi dau nicio satisfactie. Anul asta imi doresc doar niste zapada daca se poate alba si nu rosie din cauza poluarii.&lt;br /&gt;   Obiceiurile culinare de Craciun imi trezesc o nesfarsita greata. Cum sa mananci cu atata pofta o piele de porc pe care inainte cu putin timp statea un strat de jeg maiestuos? Apoi sa poftesti la o feliuta de toba, lebar, caltabos indesate pe matul in care bietul porc facea digestia. Sa te cutremuri la auzul unui carnat care sfaraie in tigaie, netinand cont ca sta intr-un mat? Multora le place creierul pane. V-ati gandit vreodata ca mancati toate senzatiile, amintirile, gandurile porcului respectiv? Sau cei care mananca fudulii de porc... Deja greata mea a atins amplitudinea maxima.&lt;br /&gt;   Sau colindatul. Cand cativa copii tembeli iti bat la usa sa te incante, apoi sa te injure ca nu le-ai dat mai mult ? Sau tiganii care vin morti de beti sa-ti cante Vasilca, apoi te intreaba cu voce suava daca ai sa le dai o jumate in loc de portocale.&lt;br /&gt;Apoi incepem sa impodobim bradul stiind deja ca o sa-l si despodobim. Si ne vom preface ca exista Mos Craciun si ca de-abia asteptam sa ne aduca mult doritele cadouri. Si apoi sa ne prefacem ca ne plac darurile ca nu cumva sa se supere Mosu' pe noi.&lt;br /&gt;    Dar bineinteles ca eu am un posibil abces pe creier. Toate acestea fiind zise:&lt;br /&gt;    Sarbatori fericite!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-55715777832333281?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/55715777832333281/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/12/despre-sarbatori.html#comment-form' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/55715777832333281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/55715777832333281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/12/despre-sarbatori.html' title='despre sarbatori'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-4321965778278080058</id><published>2008-12-05T18:15:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T18:40:38.876+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Confidentu' verde</title><content type='html'>In fiecare an de Sf. Andrei se practica pusul graului la incoltit in borcane de iaurt, apoi se aseaza pe pervaz (sa fie incantat ala micu' cand s-o inalta de privelistea bucuresteana fara zahar). Cred ca nu am mai facut asta de vreo 5 ani, dar anul asta mi-am propus sa reiau ritualul. Mi-am adus aminte de asta pe la 8 seara si ca sa fie de ajuns au mai trebuit si lungi rugaminti sa ma ajute cineva sa fac rost de samanta. Vroiam cu orice pret ca anul acesta sa am graul meu magic, caruia sa ii spun secrete, sa-l ascult cu canta dimineata, sa-l vad cum se bucura de apa din Dambovita si sa-mi alunge sila de dimineata. Si graului meu i-au trebuit numai doua zile ca sa incoltesca si sa-si scoata tichiuta din pamant. Cand l-am vazut pentru prima oara l-am luat in brate si i-am spus ca-l iubesc. Ciudat, parea fericit.Ii cant si ii spun vorbe pe care numai el le intelege. Vorbe fumoase care il fac sa creasca, sa fie frumos, vesel. Cu fiecare zi care trece creste tot mai mult, se inverzeste de viata si imi lasa margaritare pe frunze drept recunostinta. Poate ca nebunia mea s-a amplificat, poate ca vad dincolo de banal, poate ca ma bucur prea mult din orice, poate ca imi va trece. Nu m-am gandit ce se va intampla cu el cand viata ii va spune stop, dar cu siguranta ca nu va fi mancat de o vaca. Va fi pastrat intr-o carte cu arome vechi si poate ca intr-o zi, peste cativa ani, o sa dau de el si voi spune :" care idiot a pus iarba asta aici?".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-4321965778278080058?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/4321965778278080058/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/12/confidentu-verde.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4321965778278080058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4321965778278080058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/12/confidentu-verde.html' title='Confidentu&apos; verde'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-5353965082987751946</id><published>2008-11-26T18:26:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T18:42:28.649+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Petice de dimineata...</title><content type='html'>Noiembrie cea mai urata luna a anului. Ma trezesc la 7 si ai impresia ca e 3 noaptea.Intuneric si chef de somn sugrumat impotriva vointei mele. Miros de frig, ochi de mamaie, apa receee. Deschid jaluzelele...niciun efect. Imi mananc cerealele care dau puteri magice cu ochii atintiti in cutia gigantica de carton agatata de bietul salcam din fata blocului. Ce oameni degenerati. De o luna zace acolo...si va mai zace. Tanti cu fes frez matura flegmele si semintele lasate de tanara generatie pe scari.Dracuie pe "aia micii si pe ma-sa aia proasta". S-a scurs timpul. Sa incepem mirobolanta zi de 26 noiembrie. Zoaiele de cer ma imbolnaveste. Parca spune "dormi!". Mazga, ceata , claxoane , cascat prelungit. Adorm cu ochii cascati, cu un fundal sonor de invidiat:"fiiiiareee veeechi" bis bis. Mai ma uit a 20-a oara cate saptamani mai sunt pana la vacanta.:-&lt;.Oftat. Privesc pe geam cum vecinul de vizavi tremura asteptandu-si cainele sa-si termine treaba. Niciunul nu e incantat de situatie. De teava de ala etajul 5 atarna o mandra pereche alba de chiloti parca asteptandu-si stapanul. Gigel trage de mamaie sa nu il duca la scoala. Sandel de la parter injura Loganul caruia i s-a inecat jiglerul. Ce viata minunata!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-5353965082987751946?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/5353965082987751946/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/11/petice-de-dimineata.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/5353965082987751946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/5353965082987751946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/11/petice-de-dimineata.html' title='Petice de dimineata...'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-7793854369758480376</id><published>2008-11-21T18:18:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T18:33:59.346+02:00</updated><title type='text'>cand 2 devine 1</title><content type='html'>Suntem doua entitati ce se intrepatrund , ce sunt legate atat de strans incat devin una. Partea imateriala si cea materiala. Amandoua sunt intr-o transformare continua si se influenteaza reciproc. Cateodata se mai supara una pe alta si au loc "batalii" care se lasa cu cearcane si scufundare in ganduri. Fiecare asteapta clipa in care se va elibera. Dar numai una va supravietui dupa despartire, celalta se va dezintegra si va lasa numai fotografii in urma. Apoi fiecare isi va da seama cat de mult tinea de fapt la cealalta.Pe parcursul vietii una este invizibila si celalta e vizibila. Nimeni nu poate spune care primeaza, nici macar eu pentru ca eu sunt doua si fiecare voteaza cu fiecare.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-7793854369758480376?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/7793854369758480376/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/11/cand-2-devine-1.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7793854369758480376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7793854369758480376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/11/cand-2-devine-1.html' title='cand 2 devine 1'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-2146744708216020331</id><published>2008-11-12T18:17:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T18:36:57.606+02:00</updated><title type='text'>intr-o continua transformare...</title><content type='html'>Stiam pana acum ca omul preistoric era un vanator iscusit si reusea cu arme rudimentare sa ucida lei, tigri, mistreti chiar si elefanti. Ei bine , oamenii de stiinta s-au intors la 180 de grade. Acum spun ca omul nu ar fi fost chiar in varful piramidei trofice, ca ar fi fost hrana de baza a multor animale si s-ar fi ascuns prin pesteri de frica. Rezulta de aici ca era erbivor. Poate ca au dreptate tinanad cont ca mai ne-a ramas un rest de intestin de la erbivore- apendicele. Cum am ajuns acum in varful piramidei... ramane sa dezlege ei. Dar ne aflam intr-o continua transformare. Hrana nu mai este scopul muncii noastre de mult. Cumparam intotdeauna mai multa mancare decat avem nevoie si ne indopam chiar daca nu ne este foame. Mancarea pe care o consuma noi azi ar omori un om din secolul 15 in 2 luni. Asta pentru ca ne-am adaptat la aceasta alimentatie. Poate ca ne vom transforma in niste niste mini mamuti si vom inlocui bietii elefanti.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-2146744708216020331?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/2146744708216020331/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/11/intr-o-continua-transformare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2146744708216020331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2146744708216020331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/11/intr-o-continua-transformare.html' title='intr-o continua transformare...'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-4418176742196829488</id><published>2008-10-23T19:51:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T20:13:30.279+03:00</updated><title type='text'>fericirea ? un fleac...</title><content type='html'>Suntem produsul mintii noastre. La concluzia asta am ajuns eu, savant ordinar, dupa multiple fracturi ale constiintei. E foarte simplu. Ne comportam cum ne propunem, ne aranjam ambalajul in asa fel incat sa ne creeze o stare psihologica de bine  si ne propunem sa ne tintim visurile drept in crestet. Chiar si cele mai mici decizii ne influenteaza "calitatea". Dar cine stabileste pragurile , standardele de calitate? Ei bine, majoritatea. Daca anul asta e "fancy" sa porti ciorapi rupti cu ciobu', maine peisajele urbane vor fi inundate de aceste piese vestimentare-pot sa spun inutile. Daca e "cul", "posh" sa ai geanta de rafie sau par de cocogeambo la haina atunci e musai sa te straduiesti sa iti satisfaci nevoia. Altfel, ramai un rebut. Totusi este paradoxal. Desi se  incearca incadrarea intr-o matrita,se vrea ceva distinctiv.  Probabil ca aceasta este cauza nefericirii care bantuie lumea. Studiile arata ca desi omul secolului 21 are tot ce ii trebuie (nu mai alearga cu sulita dupa porci prin savana, ci ii cumpara de la carrefour in punguta de plastic; nu mai moare din cauza unui apendice inflamat ci fuge la spital cu ambulanta...etcetc) este cu mult mai nefericit decat a fost vreodata. Eu zic ca totul vine de la "cutiuta". Daca maine vreau sa fiu fericit, atunci sunt sigur ca asa va fi!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-4418176742196829488?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/4418176742196829488/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/10/fericirea-un-fleac.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4418176742196829488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4418176742196829488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/10/fericirea-un-fleac.html' title='fericirea ? un fleac...'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-2763351568030353582</id><published>2008-10-16T20:00:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T20:14:23.189+03:00</updated><title type='text'>this is for my neighbour...</title><content type='html'>Nu imi place sa-mi cunosc vecinii. Nici nu vreau. Am o singura vecina la care ma gandesc in fiecare seara. Da, asta pentru ca ma intreb ce face. Ea se trezeste la viata pe la 1:30 a.m. si face mai multe decat as face eu intr-o zi trezindu-ma de la 6:00 dimineata. Se aude, asa, ca un mutat de mobila scartaitor, enervant si mai ales daunator somnului.Alteori da cu aspiratorul, spala rufe sau se joaca lapte-gros cu colegii de faculatate pe fundalul unor melodii notorii, apoi urmeaza hohotele sacadate de ras si bancurile spuse dupa 5 beri. Eu, in existenta mea mizerabila, am vrut sa fiu de moda veche, adica sa ma culc pe la vreo 12:00. Acum nu stiu cum sa fac sa ma cronometrez cu vecina. Am botezat-o maricica (cu "m" mic), din simpatie. Salut toate "maricicile"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-2763351568030353582?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/2763351568030353582/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-for-my-neighbour.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2763351568030353582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2763351568030353582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/10/this-is-for-my-neighbour.html' title='this is for my neighbour...'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-3380220351073657506</id><published>2008-10-09T20:14:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T20:31:09.587+03:00</updated><title type='text'>son of the blaze</title><content type='html'>Tu cat ti-ai dori sa traiesti? Daca ai putea sa decizi cati ani sa traiesti, ti-ar fi mai usor? Cum si-ar trai oamenii viata daca nu ar stii ca mor? sunt putinele dintre intrebarile existentiale. Nu exista om pe Pamant caruia sa nu ii fie frica de moarte- cred eu. Sa fie,oare,  viata o etapa din Marea Existenta? O proba? "Ceea ca trebuia sa cautam sa stim este in ce mod sa ne traim viata pentru ca aceasta sa fie cea mai buna posibila"(Gorgias,512 E).&lt;br /&gt;  O scanteie. Dintr-un foc-mama apare copilul-scanteia. Scanteia trebuie sa lupte sa traiasca. La inceput firicelul intepator si cald este purtat de curentii inselatori. Acestia ii dau senzatia ca este puternica, dar o ucid cu incetul.Trebuie sa incerce sa-si gaseasca seva cu care sa devina matura.Mai intai de toate trebuie sa isi dea seama de asta.Daca nu, viata ei se masoara in milisecunde.Sa fie oare nefericita din cauza asta?Daca incercarea fructifica si gaseste izvorul, se aprinde intr-un foc mai puternic decat cel din care s-a nascut.Continuitate. Eu nu sunt o scanteie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-3380220351073657506?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/3380220351073657506/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/10/son-of-blaze.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3380220351073657506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3380220351073657506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/10/son-of-blaze.html' title='son of the blaze'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-756512476887831242</id><published>2008-09-15T00:19:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T00:39:59.218+03:00</updated><title type='text'>acordeonu' fin</title><content type='html'>E sambata. Caut niste lumanari pentru ritualurile mele mizantrope. Nu gasesc si merg in casa batraneasca , plina de moliile timpului. De la intrare ma izbesc mirosuri de mirodenii uscate: patrunjel , leustean, flori de soc. Peste tot frunze uscate de soc , tei, boabe pestrite de fasole intinse pe ziare cu Basescu strivit pe ele si lipit cu picatura.3 crizanteme isi varsa petalele pe fata de masa. Ajung in camera cu felinar si muze pe pereti. Gasesc cutia cu lumanari :trupuri lungi , galbene , rastignite intr-o cutie de pantofi .In colt ceva imi inteapa ochiul. O geanta mare , neagra ,prafuita, cu broasca rupta , legata cu un ciorap de dama.&lt;br /&gt;Deschid cutia deja deschisa si descoper un acordeon. Invins , greoi, lenes imi cade imi brate. 3 clape rupte de copiii fara jucarii , un scrijelit pe rama :" am fost",iar curele poarta amprenta urmasilor mei.Il supun la un ultim efort pe acest "martir".Sunetul lui taie aerul imbalsamat si il scap jos. Inca o rana.Se aude probabil un el de "auuu" de al nostru. Sterg praful centenar si ingan niste acorduri invatate pe "yamaha de hartie": mi-si-la-si-la-sol-la-sol-la-si.Vreau sa il resuscitez. Il pun pe umeri si ies afara. Lumina releva literele de pe panza impunse cu creionul: "nu mai canta fara sa stii". L-am dus inapoi in "sicriul lui" si l-am lasat sa doarma pana cand ... protonii s-au violat unii pe altii.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-756512476887831242?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/756512476887831242/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/09/acordeonu-fin.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/756512476887831242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/756512476887831242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/09/acordeonu-fin.html' title='acordeonu&apos; fin'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-7666906750080567448</id><published>2008-06-10T20:43:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T21:22:43.661+03:00</updated><title type='text'>bilant</title><content type='html'>Iata ca s-a sfarsit si acest mirobolant an scolaire :D/In acest an clasa noastra s-a dovedit a fi fooarte inventiva.Iata cateva acte de bravura :)) :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Biletelul de la ora de franceza.Da a fost ceva "magic".Sa ne reamintim.Trebuia sa dam test la franca si ce ne-au sclipit mintile atunci ca am hotarat sa scapam de acesta "epreuve".Am facut un bilet pe care scria:"Nu fortati usa!Ne-am mutat la parter.Sala 9.Va multumim!".Apoi ca niste adorabili ne-am asezat in coltul clasei , hotarati sa nu scoatem niciun sunet.In acest timp profa a mers la parter sa ne caute.S-a intors furioasa si ne-a dat test in 15 minute :D/.Ce a urmat nu mai conteaza.Amenintari cu scaderea sfintei note la purtare, sedinta cu parintii etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Certurile  cu diri.No comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"Cadourile" lasate in penare constand in firimituri , ascutitori si cateodata firimituri cu apa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-furatul "cornului si laptelui".Toata scoala stie ca noi furam cornurile si laptele celor mici :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Mos Craciun cu pufuleti.Sacii cu pufuleti pe care a X a A ii manca in pauze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"aruncatul cu avioane in curtea baboilor".Langa scoala locuiesc cei doi "prieteni" care culeg avionasele cu mesaje dragute.("daca ma gasesti primesti o sticla de Cola"sau "azi te va lovi un camion de crenwurshti").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"aruncatul mingei pe geam".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-partidele de "adevar sau provocare?".Fireste ca toata lumea alegea adevar, dar Binom a facut gresala sa aleaga provocare.Ce a urmat dupa e demn de filmele gen "American Pie".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-beep-uri pe telu' lu' diri in ora de dirigentie :)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-aruncatul la cosul de gunoi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-magarusul in varianta cu penare, haine etc.&lt;br /&gt;Si cam atat mi-am adus eu aminte, dar am omis ceva , ata ete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-7666906750080567448?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/7666906750080567448/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/06/bilant.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7666906750080567448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7666906750080567448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/06/bilant.html' title='bilant'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8194579436780447347</id><published>2008-06-04T19:47:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T21:52:32.660+03:00</updated><title type='text'>despre femeie si alti demoni</title><content type='html'>Ni s-a spus ca prima oara Dumnezeu l-a creat pe Adam si apoi pe Eva. E lesne de inteles ca ea ocupa un loc secund , fiind aproape un accesoriu fabricat din coasta. In societate , femeia a fost prostita de la inceput. Nu a avut dreptul de a spune "DAR" sau de a face altceva in afara de mancare si copii. Cum ar fi lumea fara femei? pai...ar fi pustie pentru ca barbatii nu pot trai fara femei , dar nici invers(asta pentru ofticati). In primul rand , cand barbatii si-au dat seama ca femeile nu mai pot fi tinute in frau si au tendinta de a prelua puterea s-a inventat moda.Moda a devenit punctul sensibil al acestora , au devenit sclavele asortarilor , pantofilor, fustelor.Moda a mai nascut un pui: barfa.Se spune ca barfa e cea mai rapida posta (pe buna dreptate). Si astfel , femeia nu a mai fost o piedica. Unora (femei , desigur) le place sa spuna ca in spatele oricarui barbat puternic exista o femeie puternica. Avem multe exemple: Napoleon si Josephine,Hitler si Eva Braun , Putin si Ludmila etcetc.La noi, in perioada predecembrista se spunea ca Elena Ceausescu era adevaratul tiran , nea Nicu fiind doar o marioneta in mana acesteia. Lucrurile incep sa se schimbe. Avem exemplul reginelor Marii Britaniilui , al lui Hillary Clinton care se lupta sa devina cea mai puternica femeie de pe planeta, gata sa-l ia de gat pe Putin si sa-l prinda pe Ben Laden. Si mai ales noua /tanara generatie e cam confuza.Fetele se imbraca precum niste baietei , iar baieteii invers.Nu mai vezi fete in fuste , rochii sau pantofi cu toc, ci conversi , blugi,tricouri largi. Asta pentru ce se simt mai puternice si au mai multa siguranta de sine. Deci feminitatea e pe cale de disparitie. Femeia nu mai e bulgarele de sensibilitate , mitul lesinatei. Ele se lupta cot la cot cu antagonistii lor. Este numit razboiul sexelor , pe cale sa ia amploare. Prezic o schisma -femeile pe  Marte si opusii pe Pamant. Ele au devenit fiare avide de averi, care calca pe cadavre , fabrica intrigi. Si ajunge ca am intrecut masura :D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8194579436780447347?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8194579436780447347/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/06/despre-femeie-si-alti-demoni.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8194579436780447347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8194579436780447347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/06/despre-femeie-si-alti-demoni.html' title='despre femeie si alti demoni'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-6380852387437125470</id><published>2008-05-28T18:12:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T18:43:48.195+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Omida bionica</title><content type='html'>A venit primavara, defapt, a venit vara :D.Caldura asta e lipicioasa , puturoasa si enervanta , ov corz.Si pe mine scrie zilnic:icecream /glace/inghetata.Omizile o duc bine.S-au ingrasat la greu incat li se vede celulita prin scheletul chitinos.Vreo 2 ore  am cautat pe net tipuri de omizi doar-doar aflu si eu ce specie si ordin au suratele.Intre timp, ciresul de langa bloc a mai naparlit si chiuveta s-a infundat de rahatei de omida bionica.Au o criza de personalitate in acest moment(comportament anti-socialomid ca sa zic asa) pentru ca ma ataca.Da ...ma ataca.Defapt ma stropesc pe mana cu o secretie galbuie si chiar frumos mirositoare.Dat fiind faptul ca nu imi fac niciun rau ramane de stabilit daca comportamentul lor e anti sau pro socialomid.Poate descopar vreo crema antirid pe calea asta=)).Parca ma intristez cand le vad ca au crescut si in curand o sa impupeze si o sa zboare.Ca o "mama" buna ce sunt am hotarat sa nu le dau drumul in Bucuresti (droguri , alcool ,astea).S-au hotarat sa dea la Facultatea de Rochita-Randunicii si Craita Internationala.Sper sa ia pentru ca sunt niste omidute deosebite.De 1 iunie vreau sa le fac o surpriza, dar nu m-am hotarat inca.Mai e timp...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-6380852387437125470?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/6380852387437125470/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/omida-bionica.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6380852387437125470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/6380852387437125470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/omida-bionica.html' title='Omida bionica'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-3548252485212979003</id><published>2008-05-20T18:56:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T19:15:25.998+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Veleitate.Non-veleitate.</title><content type='html'>Noapte calda de vara precoce.Dimineata trasa de par cu raze zgubilitice si 2 ceasuri care suna incontinuu.Inca o zi.In borcanul lor de betigase de urechi Frederic si Obama au inceput sa danseze. Dansul lor: se urca pe rand fiecare in capul celuilalt."Fetele"/"baietii"/"baiatul si fata" mele/mei/mea sunt mofturoase.Ieri mi-am adus aminte si le-am "cumparat" frunze de paltin.Nici macar nu sau atins de ele.Am crezut ca au devenit anorexice asa ca astazi le-am luat frunze de maracine.Cred ca lor le plac numai frunzele de cires.Cine stie un cires dispus sa isi dea 2 frunze pe zi unei fete nebune care creste omizi?Nu.Fata aia nu sunt eu.Eu le tin pana cand vine cineva sa le ia.I-am lasat pe tovarasii mei si am plecat. Pe strada acelasi miros de rebu-neserios si slalom printre fecale de pedigree.O tanti pe care o vad in fiecare zi scutura un covor.A! si vecinul Cristinei cu parul "noapte-zi" fumeaza o tigare cu tact sprijinit de noile garduri.In fata bisericii un caine se crede in Lacul-Lebedelor.Tine picioarele in sus sperand ca astfel isi va obtine colacul mai repede.Tanti de la ziare mananca salam cu masline si cu paine.Cand ma vede imi arata stoma dintre canini.O mamaica isi convinge nepotul sa nu mai muste din inghetata in timp ce un student isi admira adidasii puturosi.Deh...ce lume nebuna.&lt;br /&gt;As vrea sa fiu numai eu intr-o lume paralela cu 2 omizi care se urca una in capul celeilalte si sa astept ca ele sa devina fluturi si apoi sa faca omidute si iar fluturi si iar si iar.Pana cand nu mai ramane nimic de facut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-3548252485212979003?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/3548252485212979003/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/veleitatenon-veleitate.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3548252485212979003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/3548252485212979003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/veleitatenon-veleitate.html' title='Veleitate.Non-veleitate.'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8830524651755999248</id><published>2008-05-06T18:46:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T19:08:02.257+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Definitie</title><content type='html'>Aparuta din timpuri stravechi, aceasta specie a evoluat parcurgand mai multe faze.Homo habillis, homo sapiens si acum stagneaza la homo sapiens sapiens.A fost numit OM.Om de la "oare, maimuta?".De cand a parut in laturile trofice aceasta dezgustatoare specie a produs macel.Au inventat razboiul,au distrus tot ce le-a iesit in cale si in cele din urma, s-au jucat cu viata.Omul poate fi de sex feminin sau masculin.Fiecare om are nevoie de multi bani ,frumusete si succes.Se mai poate adauga si aprobarea semenilor, pupincureala,nevoia de a iesi in evidenta.Pentru a fi fericita , o femela de om are nevoie de masuri "90-60-90",armani , gucci,roberto cavalli ,vopsea de par, oja, rimel, ruj ,picioare de 1.20 m si lista poate continua.Masculul om are nevoie de pectorali-6,bicepsi ,tricepsi,sa devina fotbalist,masina "bengoasa",femeie fatala etc etc.Problema este ca mai toti oamenii se nasc fara unele din aceste necesitati si asa incepe lupta pentru multumirea de sine.Oamenii au adus planeta in ultimul stadiu al supravietuirii.Oricum , se aude ca prim 2030 un corp cosmic va lovi planeta.Sa speram  Bruce Willis va muri pana atunci.Oamenii au distrus paduri, au exterminat specii,s-au omorat intre ei (in 2 razboaie mondiale) si s-au jucat cu viata.Au produs virusuri pentru a se omori,arme ,bomba nucleara etc.Pana acum nu au reusit sa creeze viata din anorganic,din tarana.Au inceput sa isi dea seama treptat de efctele poluarii si le-a parut rau de ce au facut , dar nu a trecut mult si si-au zis ca nu e rau.Antarctica se va topi ai astfel vor putea exploata si acest teritoriu.Sortii sunt de partea lor, spun ei.Sa asteptam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8830524651755999248?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8830524651755999248/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/definitie.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8830524651755999248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8830524651755999248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/definitie.html' title='Definitie'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-4397237452518651261</id><published>2008-05-04T21:05:00.006+03:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T22:37:48.628+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-4397237452518651261?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/4397237452518651261/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/cand-eram-eu-mica.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4397237452518651261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/4397237452518651261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/05/cand-eram-eu-mica.html' title=''/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-7719052136555066160</id><published>2008-04-24T21:39:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T22:32:36.847+03:00</updated><title type='text'>De ce iubim Bucurestiul...(sectorul "care este")</title><content type='html'>Astazi a fost o zi plina...La vreo 10 fara un sfert eu inca dormeam .Suna Zuza sa ma intrebe de ce se mareste pupila, dadea teza la bio.Ingan un raspuns somnambul si ma trezesc pe parcurs.Astazi ,primarul "care este " ne-a chemat la sala Palatului pe noi, astia talentati:&gt;.M-am intalnit cu Gaby , Deny si Ionela.Hai sa luam 226! Acel mirific mijloc de transport in comun care te intoarce cu vreo 50 de ani in urma , cand  nu existau deodorante...Buuun.Numai ca niciun 226 nu vine timp de vreo juma de ora.Plictisindu-ne intram in vorba cu o persoana feminina ,de etate vreo 65 de ani.Si asa aflam ca ea a cumparat 2 piepti de pui de s-a minunat ginerele dumisale ce ciorba buna a iesit.Si a mai cumparat si niste oua ca deh, e Pastele! , cozonac etc etc.Oricum erau multe.Apoi i-am martusirit motivul calatoriei cu 226.L-a laudat pe Marean si a spus ca ii place de el.Simpatica rau babutsa.Apoi l-a injurat pe Videanu cu bordurile lui si ne-a mai spus ca "acest vid" are fabrica de marmura.In sfarsit vine un 226 .Surpriza ...!! PLIN...Enervate ne hotaram sa o luam pe jos.Incepe sa ploua.Intre timp ne prinde si 226 din urma .Alergam sa il luam.Era 99% plin.Deh...Incapem si noi 4 in 1%.Ne inghesuim si observam ca Gaby a ramas jumatate afara.In clipa aia tot autobuzu era pe jos  de ras=))=)).Ghiozdanu Gabitsei era prins intre usi.Eram pe jos de ras.Treceau babute cu nepoteii de mana si aratau disperate("uite! asa ajungi daca nu esti cuminte!")si noi radeam si radeam si radeam.Devenise atractie .Cred ca s-au facut si poze=)).Am ajuns la Sala Palatului.Spectacol Ackent si Voltaj .Super tare.Urma sa mergem la scoala 143 sa ne luam premiile, niste casetofoane).Am luat-o prin Cish.Am mancat corcoduse , ne-am batut cu niste homelessi pe sticla noastra de suc etcetc.Am luat-o pe Margeanului si am cautat scoala o jumatate de ora ca sa aflam ca scoala e langa casa mamei Omida.Colega a vazut niste colegi de liceu cu ditamai(citez "magaoaiele") de casetofoane.A inceput sa rada de mine ca o sa imi dea casetofon din ala si nu o sa pot sa il car.Si radeam si radeam si radeam.In sfarsit am gasit scoala.Coada ca la chiloti pe vremea lui Ceausescu.Am intrat repede.Surpriza !!!mie mi-au dat casetofon din ala "finuts", mic si usor de tinut si lu' cole....MAGAOAIA!!!=))=)))deci eram pe jos ...Dupa vreo jumatate de ora eram acasa dupa ce facusem vreo 5 kmAcum avem ce sa le povestim nepotilor.:))=))=))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-7719052136555066160?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/7719052136555066160/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/de-ce-iubim-bucurestiulsectorul-care.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7719052136555066160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/7719052136555066160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/de-ce-iubim-bucurestiulsectorul-care.html' title='De ce iubim Bucurestiul...(sectorul &quot;care este&quot;)'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-804161876641262490</id><published>2008-04-21T20:25:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T20:38:24.265+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunetul copacului</title><content type='html'>E cald si mi se dilata ramificatiile.Ceva parca ma apasa.Astept sa treaca , dar clipele devin de plumb damnat.Incep sa fredonez ...Ma asez sub un copac  imbatranit de primaveri, ros de vanturile alizee, mancat de timp si totusi , atat de pur.Imi canta ceva la ureche , o melodie cunoscuta (si nu , nu am castile in urechi).Incerc sa o recunosc si imi dau seama ca e in zadar.E pesta putinta muritorilor .In copac 2 pitigoi parca au Parkinson.Isterici incep sa se scarpine.Ii las sa intrebuinteze nejenati argoul pasaresc.Deasupra mea o randunica isi aseaza coada tunsa de curand in Africa.I-ar mai trebui niste fixativ.Amilaza e din plin si nu se sfieste sa o aplice (Taftrandunica-coada ta rezista perfect).Ingana sunete inguste , stridente , magice.Cred ca ma blesteama.Sunetul copacului se intensifica si ma albesc.Mi se daruieste .Petalele cad jertfite pe mine.Ma scutur de mortii nejeliti, simtindu-ma oarecum vinovata.Acesta a fost botezul.Blestemul randunicii , valul caisului.Voi auzi de acum inainte , mereu , sunetul copacului.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-804161876641262490?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/804161876641262490/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/sunetul-copacului.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/804161876641262490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/804161876641262490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/sunetul-copacului.html' title='Sunetul copacului'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-5823758296411589997</id><published>2008-04-16T20:59:00.005+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T19:50:53.854+03:00</updated><title type='text'>rasarit de viata (amintiri)</title><content type='html'>E dimineata .E 3 si jumatate si ma trezesc sa plec la padure.Ochii mi se dezlipesc cu greu ca o molusca uscata de soare.Negrul s-a virusat de zori si o mireasma rece mi se ascunde in simturi.Simt o limba rece pe mana.E cainele.Ma astepta.Imi iau bocancii albiti de praf si pornesc la drum.Padurea cerne apa .Mai e mult de mers pana la observator.Linistea ma inconjoara si parca ma sugruma. Salcamul isi arunca mirosul pe unde apuca numai ca sa ma ameteasca si sa ma otraveasca.Iata-l!Batran , rugos si rece observatorul taie zarea.Ma urc  si ma asez pe bancuta stearsa de vreme.Nume scrijelite pe ea:"Lenuta si Dumitru-'89".Adorm chinuit de frig .Dar ma trezeste un zgomot .Un latrat.Nu e caine.E un cerb.S-a speriat.Probabil m-a simtit.Vanatul are tendinta sa alerge cu vantul in fata ca simta pericolul, iar geaca mea miroase a oua ochiuri.E 5:30.Nimic.Liniste si parca totusi ceva imi scapa.Privesc cercetator imprejurimile.Lanuri de orzoiaca si grau la adapostul padurii.Nicio ciuta.Au fugit sau am venit prea tarziu? Sfioasa , iese din desis ca o fiinta himerica , o ciuta.Isi ridica trofeul spre cer , adulmeca si incepe sa rupa lacoma graul crud.Isi ridica privirea des simtind ca ceva nu e in regula.In spatele ei, tapul calca impunator.O inghionteste afectuos si ii arunca o privire dragastoasa.Rupe o gura de iarba si o ia la goana jucaus.Ea ii face jocul.Dintr-o data parca am fost inconjurata de caprioare si cerbi.Numar 20.Imi notez constiincios in caiet ora si locul la care au aparut.Le imbratisez din priviri si le admir  liniile fine ale corpului.In partea vestica 2 pui inoata prin lan incercand sa isi urmeze mama.Scena aceasta imi smulge un suras.Au trecut 3 ore de cand le observ fara sa ma satur.Au plecat sa se ascunda.Le voi vedea si maine...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-5823758296411589997?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/5823758296411589997/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/rasarit-de-viata-amintiri.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/5823758296411589997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/5823758296411589997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/rasarit-de-viata-amintiri.html' title='rasarit de viata (amintiri)'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-2453682390259660845</id><published>2008-04-16T20:51:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T20:59:13.062+03:00</updated><title type='text'>nenorocita de ea</title><content type='html'>Zile in sir ti se pare ca nimic nu merge conform planului.Vrei sa "te asculti " intocmai si sa nu te mai abati de la promisiunea facuta tie insuti.Dar nu poti.Ceva te impiedica sau ceva nu e indeajuns de puternic sa lupte.Pierzi , iti pare rau , apoi uiti.Ti se pare ca esti damnat sa lupti cu tine insuti.Si nu e usor.Uneori nici nu stii ce iti doresti.Vrei sa ai senzatia aia de implinire, sa ti se umple "oazele" cu senzatia aia inefabila.Esti dependent de ea si intri in sevraj de dorul ei.Cauti sprijin, aprobare, compasiune si alte "deseuri" raspunzatoarea de starea deplorabila a societatii...In concluzie viata ta este o continua cautare .&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-2453682390259660845?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/2453682390259660845/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/nenorocita-de-ea.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2453682390259660845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/2453682390259660845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/nenorocita-de-ea.html' title='nenorocita de ea'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-240799394732536462</id><published>2008-04-09T20:34:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T22:31:18.459+03:00</updated><title type='text'>Why i don't want to grow up...</title><content type='html'>In fiecare an un eveniment de care mai toti profita sa mai bea niste vin care da dureri de cap, sa manance niste tort cu multe calorii si sa le ofere vecinilor o noapte de nesomn.&lt;br /&gt; Ei bine...URASC aceasta zi.Nu e de mirare.Pana la vreo 5 ani ma bucuram ca e ziua mea pentru ca primeam niste papusi platinate si imi placea sa le tund funky sau sa le fac haine in trend.Nu am inteles niciodata de ce papusilor nu le creste parul.&lt;br /&gt;Faza e ca cu fiecare an care trece ma simt mai nasol de ziua mea.Cand esti mai mic tot ti se pare posibil.(La 8 ani visam sa fiu Xena-printesa razboinica, iar la 10 -Alias- o spioana de succes).Asadar... visele nu se izbesc de realitate!Ai mai multa incredere ca o sa reusesti.Privesti viata altfel, iar succesul se masoara in ce nivel ai atins la "Mario", cate pungi de apa ai aruncat de la balcon sau de cate ori ai castigat la septica.&lt;br /&gt; La 6 ani te simti naspa daca nu mananci " macar " un Kinder pe zi,iar la 17 te simti naspa ca a trecut anul si tu nu ai facut nimic astfel incat sa  iti aduci aminte cand iti vor creste dioptriile.&lt;br /&gt;Degeaba tu incerci sa ramai de 7 daca tu esti de 17.Aiurea.Te uiti la power puff girls si la spioanele si dupa citesti padurea spanzuratilor:|.Deci ca sa intelegeti am o problema MARE cu zilele de nastere , iar urarea "la multi ani!" ma face sa ma simt Old.&lt;br /&gt;Asadar .Maine va fi o zi nefericita din viata mea...&lt;br /&gt;P.S.:pt toti cei care m-au intrebat pe 9 apr daca:"Maine e ziua ta?"&lt;br /&gt;p.S-altu:O sa-mi treaca!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-240799394732536462?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/240799394732536462/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/why-i-dont-want-to-grow-up.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/240799394732536462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/240799394732536462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/04/why-i-dont-want-to-grow-up.html' title='Why i don&apos;t want to grow up...'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-8646916869165007594</id><published>2008-03-20T19:28:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T20:08:24.031+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Calator in necunoscut"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"&gt;Am fost primul om care a pasit pe  planeta Ahram.Era o planeta secreta , netrecuta pe harta virtuala din Greenwich.In calitate de supraveghetor al traficului intergalaxial am aflat despre aceasta planeta de la un glomit(o fiinta scarboasa acoperita de diferite mucoase) drept mita ca sa nu ii scad puncte pentru ca circulase cu viteza sunetului.(Precizez de limita de viteza in conglomeratul de galaxii Waterloo este mai mare sau cel putin egala cu viteza luminii.)I-am cerut coordonatele si i-am ars o palma dupa ceafa pentru ca ma scuipase intre ochi.Planeta avea un aspect destul de bizar.Nu face miscare de rotatie sau de revolutie.I se stricase miezul intermagmatic .A apartinut ligii utopistilor, dar la destramarea acesteia(in 3099 dupa razboiul lui Obi*aeonflux) a fost jefuita de ronini.Deoarece nu se misca, partea dinspre Pamant era inghetata,populata de viata creata prin radierea adn-ului uman si cel al proboscidienilor.Partea dinspre Steaua Protectoratului(formata prin diviziunea Soarelui) era bantuita de creaturi ciudate, care pastreaza secretul savantului Moore(care a fost exilat de pe Pamant).Fiinte de un roz dispretuitor faceau tumbe prin lava si isi scuturau prelungirile coccisului a bucurie.Apa era tot de un roz purgativ ce iti pata mainile cu sodiu la o simpla atingere.Le-am urmarit comportamentul si am ajuns la concluzia ca au un I.Q. de 10.Acest lucru era un avantaj pentru mine pentru ca aveau niste colti molfaiti cu creste ascutite,dar erau prea retardate ca sa se gandeasca sa ma manance.Am atins una si i s-a schimbat culoarea .S-a facut verde.Ce se intampla?O posibila reactie intre adn-ul uman si cel al acestor artificiali?Plaga s-a raspandit repede si ele au inceput sa se fragmenteze.Peste putin timp aerul s-a saturat de bucati mici , urat mirositoare si care dadeau mancarimi.Am fost nevoita sa parasesc planeta.Era vina mea?A doua zi m-am intors si nu am mai gasit-o.Probabil isi schimbase traiectoria.Sa fie acesta secretul doctorului Moore?Sa fie aceasta unica solutie ca lucrurile sa nu fie distruse de om?...Ascunderea?Pana cand vom gasi o metoda sa ne autodistrugem se pare ca aceasta e cea mai la indemana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-8646916869165007594?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/8646916869165007594/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/calator-in-necunoscut.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8646916869165007594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/8646916869165007594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/calator-in-necunoscut.html' title='&quot;Calator in necunoscut&quot;'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-544002281051989079</id><published>2008-03-19T19:58:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T20:26:54.568+02:00</updated><title type='text'>prietenului meu, Cumuloninbus...</title><content type='html'>Zi obisnuita , ore simpliste duse pe firul norilor.Pentru mine norii sunt magnetul gandului.Ma absorb oricat m-as opune(recunosc nu ma opun de prea multe ori).Afara ,buclele timpului se tes pe cer .Norii sunt vata de zahar pe care vantul o aseaza pe ramurile corcodusilor si o decoreaza cu martipan*vrabiute* sau cu straciatella *ciori*, cateodata primesti gratis si cateva pungi pe care scrie "thanks for shopping here"(nu sporesc cu nimic aroma , ba chiar gustul e mai intepator).M-am imprietenit cu un Cumuloninbus.Trecea mereu pe deasupra mea si il  rugam sa-l agat cu o franghie ca sa zbor cu el.Imi spunea mereu ca trebuie sa cresc.Apoi m-a parasit, iar eu l-am uitat.Acum mi-am adus aminte de el.Il caut.Vantul magic , astral aseaza vata de zahar cum ii vine in minte.Cateodata vezi floricele, fluturasi albiciosi care se plimba pe cer apoi vantul se supara si ii musca de coada pana cand dispar.Face casute de hobbiti inzorzonate cu zarzari.Norul meu avea o forma elipsoidala , iar la colturi ii atarnau scame mai neingrijite.Il caut.In zadar...Spre seara , daca are vantul chef, face dragonasi din purpura ce inoata in marea plutitoare si ii mai scarpina cu o tenta orfana de albastru turcoise.Imi place sa ma joc cu norii , dar  mi-e tema ca vor fugi.Unde? Nu stiu.As merge dupa ei...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-544002281051989079?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/544002281051989079/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/prietenului-meu-cumuloninbus.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/544002281051989079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/544002281051989079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/prietenului-meu-cumuloninbus.html' title='prietenului meu, Cumuloninbus...'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-531269822325807073</id><published>2008-03-18T19:48:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T11:26:26.115+02:00</updated><title type='text'>e zgomot ...e culoare</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 255, 255);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;A fost o zi plina de lucruri traznite ,de oameni coplesiti de astenie. Cascatul a devenit un laitmotiv...Casc , ma uit pe geam si aud ca un zumzait explicatiile de-a fie a par referitoare la binomul tipului de i-a cazut marul in cap.O cioara zboara  sui printre ramurile proiectate pe un fundal verde spalacit cu albastru...e primavara.Mai casc o data si incep sa chinui foaia cu impunsaturile ondulate ale creionului ros de plictiseala.Rutina...Mai sunt 5 ore pana vine noaptea si atunci ma voi fragmenta.O parte va ramane adormita , parasita in pozitie de fetus, uitata in patul galben din camera galbena, iar cealalta va pleca...Unde?...Niciodata nu stie.Unde ii vine in gand.Ultima oara s-a plimbat cu bicicleta pe un turn vertical si a facut-o sa tresare pe cealalta jumatate.Nu se prea inteleg...Bicicleta se topeste , turnul se crapa , apoi cade,se darama.Apar campii verzi , dureroase, aproape diafane...Alearga , sare , iar inima celeilalte jumatati se incordeaza.Ajunge la o prapastie.Danseaza pasi de vals pe muchie alergand dupa un fluture cu aripa muscata.Isi pierde echilibrul si cade plutind pe o masa de aer mirosind a cafea.Deodata, se aude un zgomot .E un ceas caruia nu ii gasesc butonul de oprire.Ma chinuie.Ma trezesc impunsa de o raza de soare acompaniata de un claxon.E dimineata.Fac un efort voluntar chinuit sa ma ridic din pat.Imi ascund bine cealalta jumatate chiar o altoiesc putin pentru ca nu e cuminte.Abia asteapta sa se joace iar...mai sunt 17 ore...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-531269822325807073?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/531269822325807073/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/e-zgomot-e-culoare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/531269822325807073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/531269822325807073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/e-zgomot-e-culoare.html' title='e zgomot ...e culoare'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421636679551697471.post-5312418019100103155</id><published>2008-03-17T00:02:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T00:22:03.718+02:00</updated><title type='text'>vampirasul anur</title><content type='html'>A fost odata ca niciodata un vampiras.Ii placea sa soarba sange de lacusta cu paiul dimineata pentru ca tinea la silueta si seara sa faca un cocktail de epiderma de mascul de ofiurid cu zeama de gandac de colorado virgin-seara.Era un vampiras pretentios si facea urat daca nu i se faceau toate poftele.Toata ziua statea la televizor si se uita la "sange de tigan".Noaptea iesea in club "bloody" cu p.R.-ul lui Mimosa.Cu toate ca avea tot ce vroia parca ii lipsea ceva.Avea 25 de decenii si nu avusese inca o consoarta.Niciuna nu il iubea pentru ca nu avea coada.Coada era o trasatura fizica ce conta la vremea aia,dar el avea un ciot inestetic si zbarcit pentru ca isi  mancase coada din gresala.Din aceata cauza vampirasul nu a avut urmasi pursange .A avut numai niste copilasi pe care i-a numit CoRuPti din casatoria cu Gorgona Calicia...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5421636679551697471-5312418019100103155?l=ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/feeds/5312418019100103155/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/vampirasul-anur.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/5312418019100103155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5421636679551697471/posts/default/5312418019100103155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ioanawaterloo.blogspot.com/2008/03/vampirasul-anur.html' title='vampirasul anur'/><author><name>waterloo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05301475699000151010</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='28' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m80Z57sL97s/TgHv5P6g9kI/AAAAAAAAAak/opU_n6tNynE/s220/lipstick-puppy-30884-1236705718-18.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
